


Everything Is Wrong

by MoonySmith



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Greg, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23290372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonySmith/pseuds/MoonySmith
Summary: Greg's having one of those days where everything seems wrong but luckily he has a consulting detective by his side who can help him without even knowing it.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	Everything Is Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any grammar mistakes!

Most of his days were good now, or at least he liked to think so, after getting used to the fact that those bad days were inevitable too. Once he learned that it hasn't to be like that all the time either. And things changed since he had accepted that some things couldn't overcome on their own after all.

But then there were days when he just woke up and everything felt really bad, like a rainy cloud constantly threatening above his head, those days when he just wanted to pull the bed cover over his head, to curl himself into a ball and not come out of there for the rest of the day, or at least until he felt like a person again. But as much as he wanted to, that wasn't the most responsible thing to do if he wanted to keep his job. And he loved his job.

He hated going to sleep feeling normal and waking up the next day as if the end of the world was suddenly right in front of him. Even with his medication, even with the extra help he received, it was inevitable that he would go through those days.

For many of them, he also had the company of someone else, someone who reminded him that he wasn't alone, that no matter what was going on inside his head, he wouldn't have to go through it alone and just needed to talk to him when he needed him. He appreciated it, not always, as it could become tedious to get too much attention on him, but it was good to know that he had someone there by his side. Although he also felt guilty, it was unfair for him to pass his own weight on to someone else, then he found himself taking a few steps back and shutting himself back in his head. That had to happen sometimes too, although nothing had ever been as bad as it was a few years ago, perhaps precisely because of that person's missing.

Unfortunately, there were also those moments when everything was fine when he opened his eyes in the morning, but suddenly something he had seen, something he had experienced and of course, some case that had come to his desk, triggered something inside him and a new change of mood; a new concern, a pang of new guilt was there. Nothing prepared him for those feelings, the dark cloud settled above him without warning and most of the time he didn't know what to do to escape from it, especially if he was at work. He had to do the responsible thing, as usual.

This time it hadn't been a case that had come to him, this time it wasn't even clear to him why he had suddenly felt so tired and sleepy, wishing he could go and hide under his duvet cover.

He saw the pile of documents he had to read and sign with an ache of guilt in his chest. It was as if a pair of eyes had suddenly appeared on them, judging him because all he was able to do now, was to sit there doing nothing but stare at what he was supposed to be doing, instead of actually doing it.

He felt like he was struggling with a fairly simple task, something he had done a hundred, if not thousands of times over the years. But now it felt impossible.

He gave up for a moment because if his head wasn't in the right place, he was going to be unable to start anything at all.

He settled back into his seat, and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to remind himself that this was only a moment and wouldn't last forever. That night he would see Sherlock and he could forget this dreadful moment that now felt endless. He breathed out the air through his mouth and opened his eyes, feeling a little more relieved.

The heavyweight in his chest was still there. He was trying to get the thought of running to the loo and lock himself in, out of his head because, again, perhaps it wasn't the most responsible thing to do, not when that pile was still there waiting for him, not when he had already had Donovan covered him with some reports a few days ago. No, he was supposed to do this today,  _ now _ .

He took the first paper and made an effort to pay attention to what he was reading, even though the weight on his shoulders wanted to force him to stop.

\--

He didn't notice that his leg was bouncing non-stop, or that his lower lip was now burning from having been biting while he read, wrote and signed, not until his mobile began to vibrate, taking him away from his thoughts.

"Hey," he said softly and a little relief when he saw who it was.

"I think Molly gave you the results of my experiment by mistake," he replied without even saying hello. Greg shook his head for the lack of cordiality, not surprised though.

"Let me see." Lestrade left his phone between his ear and shoulder, going through the same pile of reports he had gathered that morning, to realize that, indeed, the young woman had left something that definitely had nothing to do with what Greg had gone looking for the day before at her lab. "Yes, here it is."

He heard Sherlock growl when he picked up the phone again.

"You're not busy, are you?" he asked.

"One of the busiest days in my _ whole _ life, actually," he joked or tried to because Sherlock didn't laugh... nor was it as if he expected him to. "Why don't you come for it?"

"The Watsons came today, and fell asleep  _ again _ , leaving me in charge of Rosie,  _ again _ ."

Lestrade snorted.

"I'm sure they're doing that on purpose now, Sunshine."

"So do I." It was as if Greg could feel Sherlock rolling his eyes in frustration and that made him grin.

"Sorry, sunshine. I can't help you now."

Sherlock grunted and then sighed, "Fine."

The man didn't even wait for an answer to hang up, and Greg couldn't help but feel a little hurt.

Sherlock hadn't noticed anything strange in his voice, he didn't ask how he was; his only interest had been that stupid result that was now on top of the pile...

Then Greg realized what he himself was doing, now he would get mad with Sherlock for doing, or not doing, something he expected him to. It wasn't his fault, he remembered. It wasn't someone else's fault what was going on inside his head, but he must also remember Sherlock was like that, especially when it came to cases and experiments. Greg greatly appreciated the chance to even occupy a space in his life, but this was the way his partner's brain worked and he had known him that way since they met so many years ago. And it wasn't his problem.

He shook his head and with a deep sigh, stood to stretch his legs slightly after hours of sitting there, wishing for a glass of cold water to refresh him and now, encourage him to continue with the work. Avoiding all desire to think again on what he inevitably expected from Sherlock sometimes.

\--

After a brief break, Greg was able to concentrate on the mountain of documents to be reviewed without much trouble. The sensation of excessive tiredness existed, but also the thought that the sooner he was done, the better.

That's why he didn't pay much attention to the gasps and expressions of surprises it was heard from outside his office as he signed some reports.

"Lestrade."

As soon as he lifted his head at the sound of his partner's voice, he released the pen he was holding in his hand and let out a gasp of surprise just like the one his team had been sharing outside.

"What?! This is the cutest shit I've ever seen," he said, covering his mouth with his hands but standing up in one single movement.

"Shut up." The other one grimaced.

Sherlock Holmes had arrived at his office with little Rosie, but a carrier strapped to his chest, where he was even able to cover the infant with his huge coat, while he had his arms resting on each side of his body.

The baby, who had her little head resting against her godfather's chest, tried to turn when she heard Greg's voice.

"Hey," he said tenderly as he walked towards them, standing beside Sherlock so that the baby could see him. "Hey, love."

"Love? So _she_ 's your love?"

"Oh, don't be jealous." Lestrade began to make some sounds and move his fingers for the girl to follow, "You're my  _ sunshine _ ." He winked at him. "I can't believe how desperate you are for those results."

Sherlock grunted.

_ " _ I  _ need _ them." Greg shook his head gently. "She's heavy, could you...?"

"Oh, yeah, of course."

Before taking Rosie out of the carrier Sherlock was bringing her in, Greg took a quick look outside where some people continued to throw some glances at them, probably still too confused from the scene they had just witnessed.

"There." He nodded at a corner of his desk where he had left the folder, thinking that he should take it with him at the end of his day and give it to Sherlock when he saw him that night, but obviously he had gone once again, ahead of him.

Greg took the little girl with him to his seat across the desk, as Sherlock rushed to eagerly scan his long-awaited results. Greg decided to ignore him when he sat Rosie on his lap and started playing with her, continuing to make different voices to amuse her.

From time to time he would raise his head to watch with amusement, the concentrated face of his partner, who had now taken his pen and made quick notes on his document.

Rosie's laughter resounded through the office and Greg couldn't be more pleased to hear it, the girl always seemed to get in a good mood when he held her or made funny faces at her, and that made him feel very special. He always had a good tactic with children, even if he never had one of his own - now it was too late to think about it, though he still preferred to be  _ Uncle Greg _ , rather than a father.

He stood up and turned to point out things to Rosie outside his office window, things she probably wouldn't understand, but it still seemed to tickle her as they listened to Sherlock growl with his work.

"I'm done," Sherlock announced, closing the folder with more force than necessary. Greg turned around again. "I have to get her back before her parents wake up."

"Right."

Greg walked back to Sherlock, asking him to open his coat a little more to allow the infant to get into the seat.

"It's alright?" Greg asked, pointing at the results he was still holding in his hand.

Sherlock nodded but also shrugged.

"You wouldn't understand," he said, anyway. Greg rolled his eyes, but jokingly.

"God, I wish I could take a picture of you two now," said Greg, taking a step back. "You have no idea how adorable you look."

"No," Sherlock refused, with a scowl on his face.

Lestrade smiled at him and approached again to squeeze his shoulder tenderly, holding back the desire to kiss him, either on the lips or on the cheek, he still believed that there might be someone watching them from the outside.

"See you tonight?" Sherlock asked, preparing to leave, and Greg nodded in reply.

"I hope to see you again soon," said Lestrade to the little girl in a higher voice, than to the consulting detective. "Can you bring dinner?"

"Okay." He nodded once as a goodbye and turned to leave, Rosie still following Greg with her gaze. Sherlock, stopped dry beneath the doorstep, turning again, he pursed his lips in a thin line but staring at him. "Are you all right?"

Lestrade couldn't help raising his eyebrows in surprise, and nodding before even thinking about what to answer. Maybe it was his automatic answer by default, after all.

"Yeah."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"Uhm, okay. See you later then." He didn't seem convinced, though.

"Sure."

They both nodded at each other and Greg decided to close his door, although he knew it wouldn't give him as much privacy as he would have liked, it was enough at least for a moment.

He took a seat in the chair and couldn't help but smile again, remembering how tender Sherlock looked carrying Rosie like that as she swayed her little legs suspended in the air. He was definitely going to ask him to repeat that scene so that he could photograph it and probably change it as a wallpaper on his mobile phone.

It was inexplicable the change of mood that this brief visit had had on him. Although everything looked blue, it felt like the day was lighting up again.

Feeling surprised at how much Sherlock helped him to improve through the time when he himself had given him the name "Sunshine" years ago, not knowing how true it'll become.

Sherlock had been incredibly supportive of him with his mood swings, and already with all of his mental illness, but even so, there were times when he felt uncomfortable letting him know he wasn't alright if he didn't figure it out first. It was still difficult for him to explain why he suddenly felt like he couldn't get out of there and that it seemed like it was dragging him down. 

There were days when everything was wrong and he couldn't explain it to his partner, but there were also other days when everything was wrong, until suddenly it wasn't, because Sherlock was there too, and without even trying, he had helped him again.

Greg, unable to remove the sudden smile that had appeared on his lips, took a few seconds to calm his breathing before returning to work.

Just as he took the pen Sherlock had been using, he noticed a bright yellow post-it beside his notebook, with the word "Graham" written on it, plus a smiling face. Greg rolled his eyes and snorted, but took his wallet out of his jacket to keep the little note inside. He wouldn't tell Sherlock, but he'd use it as a simple reminder for his dark moments in the future.

* * *

_ Somedays I just feel like crying _

_ Somedays I don't feel like trying _

(The Raconteurs)

**Author's Note:**

> I had that song stuck in my head and thinking about how simple those lyrics are but how meaningful at the same time? And I also like to imagine Sherlock being the supportive partner to Greg <3


End file.
